


How to Keep Warm in Petersburg

by Esteliel



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alley Sex, Background Het, During Canon, Frottage, M/M, Paris (City), Trick or Treat: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: “A good and loyal Russian boy has no place in Paris.” Gleb evenly met Dmitry’s gaze. “Wouldn’t you agree, comrade?”Gleb encounters Dmitry after visiting the Neva Club.





	How to Keep Warm in Petersburg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iberiandoctor (jehane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehane/gifts).



The Neva Club.

Gleb’s lips curled with disgust as he turned, his back straight, walking away from the repulsive spectacle of wealth. The land of yesterday was dead—and so, soon, they would be. They would be forgotten, like a bad dream Russia had woken from, until soon, no one would even recall their names any more.

He turned a corner, head held high. In his mind, he was already contemplating a different approach to finding Anya’s hideaway—the ballet, probably, since one of the men at the Neva Club had mentioned that the Dowager Empress would attend the ballet—when, from the corner of his eye, something caught his attention.

A boy, he thought at the first glimpse of him. He was standing in the shadows behind a house, his coat drawn tight around a slim frame, eyes unseeing as he stared out at the Seine.

Gleb Vaganov had seen a hundred boys like this one: starved, street-smart, not dangerous, perhaps, but with enough of a potential for danger that he kept his eyes and ears on every one of them.

He nearly turned away before he realized that this wasn’t Leningrad, and the river before them wasn’t the Neva.

This was Paris, and that boy in particular had no right to be here.

He was on him in a heartbeat.

“I thought you’d be smarter,” he murmured when the boy jerked in his grasp like a surprised animal, the wall against his back. Gleb’s lips curled again, this time with satisfaction. “Dmitry, isn’t it? What a coincidence to meet you here.”

“Let me go.” The boy stared at him from undaunted eyes. “This isn’t Petersburg, and you’ve got no right—”

“A good and loyal Russian boy has no place in Paris.” Gleb evenly met Dmitry’s gaze. “Wouldn’t you agree, comrade?”

“Then that means _you’ve_ got no place here, comrade,” Dmitry returned, slender body twisting in Gleb’s hold once more.

This time, Gleb laughed into his face. After a moment, he pushed him further back into the shadows.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said when Dmitry continued to twist. “I’ll let you go. If you want to rot here serving the scum at the Neva Club, you’re welcome to it. They’ve got no place in our future—and perhaps, neither do you. But first, you’ll answer my questions. Where is she?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The boy’s look was haughty.

Gleb smiled again and tilted his head. Then his hand tightened on the boy’s lapels. He shoved him roughly against the wall, pressing so close that he knew Dmitry could feel the heat of his breath when he spoke. It made Dmitry shudder a little, his eyes instinctively widening with fear, and that, at last, was pleasingly familiar.

“Don’t lie to me, comrade. Again. Where is Anya?”

“I don’t know. I came here on my own,” the boy repeated, jaw clenched as he stared back with fury in his eyes. “Do I look like I’ve got enough money for a train ticket to Paris for a random street sweeper?”

Gleb chuckled. “You look like someone who’d steal the money and teach a poor street sweeper to believe in a lie. Now, for the last time. Where is she?”

“For the last time,” Dmitry hurled back, “I don’t know! What’s that obsession about anyway? Are you jealous? A man like you, comrade? The great Gleb Vaganov… don’t you know what they say on the street? Even the prostitutes of Petersburg don’t tempt him. You can’t bribe Gleb; his heart’s made from stone, and his dick—”

“Watch your tongue.” Gleb’s voice turned into a growl as he pushed him hard against the wall.

For a heartbeat, they stared at each other, officer and street rat: Dmitry’s eyes wide with something that finally looked like panic, Gleb’s lips pulled back to bare his teeth.

And then, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, Dmitry’s hand dropped between their bodies.

Gleb froze. For a moment, he could not move, shock holding him frozen when Dmitry’s hand pressed against his erection.

“Well,” Dmitry wheezed, “seems the rumors aren’t actually true.”

Gleb dropped his hands from Dmitry. Even so, he didn’t step back. For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes—and then, as if he’d come to a decision, Dmitry’s head tilted back against the wall. Slowly, his hand began to rub along the hard length, forcing a groan from Gleb’s lips.

With one hand, Gleb reached out to hold on to the wall. He didn’t speak. His heart was pounding in his chest. Abruptly, he thought of his orders, of the duty he’d come to fulfill. Then Dmitry’s fingers forced another groan from him, and he could think of nothing but the gleaming of Dmitry’s eyes and the pressure of clever fingers.

He shouldn’t be here. He should have drawn his gun, forced the information from the boy. He should have convinced Anya to leave this ridiculous lie behind and return to Leningrad with him.

Instead, Gleb stood frozen, breathing heavily as he stared into the eyes of a known criminal who was behind this entire charade that had caused him so much trouble. A known conman who’d led an innocent Russian girl down a path that could and would mean her death, who—

“Stop thinking,” Dmitry murmured. His hand was still tormenting Gleb’s aching arousal. “It’s nothing worth thinking about. To those of us who use _this_ more than you do, at least. Do you know what a tale about your dick would bring me on the black market, _comrade_?” His eyes were gleaming, the words spoken lightly, as if he was teasing. Gleb groaned.

Dmitry’s hand pressed harder against him. Without thought, Gleb suddenly found himself shaking off his hand. Dmitry’s eyes widened in alarm—but a moment later, Gleb had impatiently opened his trousers, biting back a groan when his aching cock sprang free

Dmitry laughed. The sound was surprised but genuine, nearly sweet—and then his own trousers were opened, and his arm wound around Gleb’s back.

“Come here then,” Dmitry muttered, “let me show you how we keep warm in Petersburg when there’s no wood to be had.”

The boy’s words were infuriating, but he was just as hard as Gleb. They rutted against each other, Gleb biting back a groan at the slide of hot skin against hot skin—and then, just when he tensed, a shout threatening to break free, Dmitry wound his arm around his neck. Roguishly, he pulled Gleb close, his lips hungrily muffling the sound Gleb made as he found a sudden, startling release.

It was over quickly. Gleb was still panting by the time Dmitry had them cleaned up and tucked away again. The boy was still smiling—but at the same time, some of that former arrogance had gone, replaced by thoughtfulness.

“If you care for her at all, you’ll see that there’s no place for her back home.” There was a quiet challenge in his eyes.

Gleb laughed, the sound despairing. “And you think there’s a place for you two here? There’ll never be space for someone like you in their land of yesterday. Those days are forever over. They know it too—but they’ll never admit it.”

“I know that,” Dmitry said. “Really. I know who and what I am. But I also know who she is. Who she deserves to be. Can you say the same, Gleb?”

Stunned, Gleb took a step backwards.

Dmitry shot him another quick smile. “Think about that. If you truly care for her—if you love her—then let her be free. It’s what she deserves.”

Gleb hesitated for a long moment. “Do you love her then?”

For the first time since they’d encountered each other, the boy flinched, his eyes skidding away from Gleb to stare out at the Seine once more. He didn’t speak.

Gleb turned to look at the river as well.

It was dark. In the distance, he could see the lights lining the bridges, a graceful arc of shining silver against the night sky.

When he finally turned back around again, the boy had vanished.


End file.
